Interviews of the Bhaalspawn
by Capt. Incredible
Summary: Fifteen years after the events of the Bhaalspawn saga, five friends reunite for an evening of fun and frivolity... and questions. Lots of questions. Patience and alcohol tolerance will be tested in equal measure. A continuation of the characters from Tale of the Bhaalspawn and Wars of the Bhaalspawn.
1. An Interview for the Ages

**Interviews with the Bhaalspawn**

 **Prologue:**

Stories, by their very nature, beg to be told. They inspire all manner of feelings, whether those be uplifting tales of heroism and valor, or dark warnings of terror and foreboding. They ring forever in the memories of the listener, for so long as the teller may speak and the listener cares to remember. And yet, all tales may- must, even- come to an end. The speaker, the listener, even those around which the tale revolves... all must eventually take their bow, move on with their lives. Nothing lasts forever.

Or does it? That may have been the wry question that the gentleman in the corner of the upstairs floor of the Copper Coronet posed to himself as he nursed his third ale, forcing himself to be patient as he watched and waited. Surely it could not be long now. Not to say that the subjects of his attention were known to be the most punctual, or even paid that much attention to a schedule of sorts, but they certainly would not just ignore the summons he had sent. They simply weren't that kind of people.

He did pause for a brief moment and consider that they were perhaps already here, simply off enjoying their own homegrown festivities in another locale, but he quickly shrugged the thought away. There was a table not very far from his own that had sat empty for the past several years in the back corner of the upstairs floor- it had been at least that long since any of them had visited the establishment, or even Athkatla proper. Still, it always remained empty and awaiting any of their arrival- a promise made by the owner out of a deep gratitude and warm friendship. If they were to come, even so many years hence, it would be to this spot- they would have no other.

And so it was that as he took another long draught of his mug, leaving a thin foam arc across his own bushy mustache, that the bottom door of the Coronet opened and admitted some very familiar faces.

Pleasantries were exchanged at the bar between the heavyset barkeep and the visitors- it had been several years since their last visit, after all. They were most certainly welcome in every sense of the word- a warm smile and a quick embrace awaited both of them, as did the same table they'd frequented for the past seventeen years whenever they'd visited. They scarcely needed directions, but with the promise of ales heading their way as soon as the barkeep could pour them, the pair of half-elves ascended the rickety stairs of the Coronet, finally coming to their home away from home. The chairs only creaked ever so slightly as they both took a seat- the man smiled wistfully as he leaned his quarterstaff against the wall to their backs, running one hand across the wooden tabletop. "Just like we left it. I'd bet every copper we have that nobody's used this table since our last visit."

"Of course not. Hendak's pride would demand nothing less. Now Bernard, on the other hand..." the lady half-elf chuckled, nodding gratefully as the barkeep followed them up the stairs with two ales on a metal tray, handing them off with a long practiced motion. He scowled playfully at her as he wiped his hands on the dirty towel rag hanging from his belt, tsking gently.

"I don't believe my ears, Miss Jaheira... yer not even back but a moment and already the barbs come flying. Why if I didn't know better-"

"That's because you don't know better. You're still working here, aren't you?" Greywulf cut him off, eliciting a roar of laughter from the big man as he shoved the half-elf sorcerer in the arm, an ease among the three friends that time and distance could not affect so easily. "We were sorry to hear about Hendak... have you been managing the Coronet all right without him?"

"Aye... though I never thought to see the day I'd own the whole joint. Figured I'd make myself a nice retirement here running the bar, letting Hendak manage the rest." Bernard sighed, shaking his head. "But after he died, he left the place to me- what was I supposed to do? I sure as hell wasn't going to watch this place fall back into old habits, if you catch my meaning- of course you do, I forget how involved in this place you all were. But to answer yer question, I do all right for myself, sure enough. Spent a pretty penny to bring Hendak back to his people for a proper burial, but it didn't seem right, you know, just putting him out there in the Graveyard District. Not the kind o' man he was nor where he belonged, if you take my drift."

Jaheira nodded in agreement as Bernard's head jerked around with the sound of a cry for more ale down at the bar- he turned back to them with a smile, shaking his head. "Never a dull moment, aye? I'll be back with refills soon as I can, don't you worry. On the house, as always."

"You may regret that, depending on if everyone shows up." Greywulf chuckled as he took his own sip, eliciting another laugh from the big barkeep as he shuffled back down the stairs, leaving Greywulf to address his wife instead. "To be honest, I'm somewhat shocked we're the first to arrive."

"Did you truly expect the others to be punctual? With everything you know of them?" she shook her head in mild disbelief, brushing chestnut colored hair from her pointed ears as she sipped her own ale, frowning at the taste. "Hmph. Still as bad as ever."

"Some things never change, am I right?"

A familiar impish voice from above them got their attention as a flashing grin and a cloak lined with purple erupted into view, perched on the rafters of the high vaulted ceiling of the Coronet. The lithe woman fell backwards off the rafter and landed right between the seated pair, hands immediately balling up and resting on her hips in a self-satisfied pose. "And here you were callin' me late to the party. Didja really think I'd miss out on a reunion like this?"

"I should've known." Greywulf laughed, rising and embracing his sister as she elbowed him in the stomach before hugging him tightly, the two parts of a whole back together, if only for a short time. Jaheira had stood as well, waiting for Imoen to turn and face her before rolling her eyes in what might've appeared to be an attempt to scold her... anyone who knew them was aware that this was simply how they interacted. It was, in fact, the only way they knew how. "Let me guess, child... you've been up there for two hours, waiting to make that dramatic entrance?"

"Hah! If only my knees would stay bent that long without getting stiff these days." Imoen snorted, eliciting a bark of laughter from Jaheira who finally leaned in to hug the thief-mage as well. "B'sides, think how surprised Bernard will be when he comes up and finds me here already!"

"I do not think I shall ever quite understand how your mind works, you know that?" Jaheira remarked as they all took their seats once more, Imoen perched on her chair to Greywulf's left, shrugging nonchalantly. "Still... it is good to see you safe and well. Tell us, how have you been?"

"Heh. Just fine, if bored out of my skull at times." Imoen winked and waved at a visibly flustered Bernard who was just now ascending the staircase with a pitcher of ale- he recovered quickly and immediately moved back downstairs, presumably to grab another mug for her. "You know me... can't sit still, won't sit still... wouldn't want to sit still if I could avoid it."

"Of course, how could we forget? There's been a distinct lack of frenzied pacing back at our cabin since you left." Greywulf snickered, studying Imoen's features for a moment longer. "Gotta say, I miss the pink hair though."

"It's still kinda there!" Imoen defended, fingering some of the strands that came down by her ear, before looking at them studiously, shaking her head with a sigh. "You know how hard pink hair dye is to find on the road? I've had to settle for just highlighting the tips, or dyeing it via magic which NEVER turns out right. Now it's all boring red hair and even a gray one or two! You hear that? I've been getting gray hairs! Personally, I blame both of you."

"And that is why you simply grow NO hair on your head! No gray to worry about, eh?" those boisterous, jovial tones were unmistakable- an imposing ranger with a small hamster on one shoulder and a beautiful blonde elf beside him approached the table, Bernard in tow with a suddenly overflowing tray of drinks and pitchers.

"Found this lot down at the bar when I headed back to go grab you a glass of your own, Miss Imoen." Bernard chuckled as he spread the drinks out amongst the table, letting the three up to greet their old comrades. "I can't tell you how much a right pleasure it is to be seeing you all here again like this. Wish you'd told me ahead o' time and I'd have something a little better prepared than just the house special- could've cracked open the special reserves for an occasion like this! Still, I'll be glad to get you anything you need."

"You've been more than enough help, as always." Aerie smiled gently to Bernard before turning to greet the veritably bouncing thief-mage as she veritably jumped into Aerie's arms, the Avariel only staying balanced with a few flaps of her wings to keep her upright. Her blonde locks tangled with Imoen's for a moment before they pulled apart, Imoen already grinning widely as she dropped her hands on Aerie's slender shoulders.

"Oh my gosh... you haven't aged a day, Aerie! I have SO much stuff to catch up with you about- you've been keeping Minsc in line, right?"

The large Rashemani ranger grinned as Imoen thumbed one hand towards him, the big man letting his hamster scurry down his arm and into his hand which he extended to Imoen with a grin. "Of course she does, and Boo as well! He has grown into much more of a trickster in his old age. He never used to store nuts and berries in my pillow, but now I find them there so very often!"

"Heh. Just like I taught you, little guy." Imoen chuckled, rubbing the hamster's head with two fingers while Jaheira and Greywulf moved to greet the newly arrived pair as well. Before long all five were seated at the table with drinks in hand, the merry conversation just getting started as Greywulf removed his cloak, settling for just the gray robes that were his usual traveling garb.

"I have to admit, I didn't really expect to get a letter inviting us here for this little reunion." he remarked, draping the cloak around his chair as he took a seat again. "I'm going to assume it was Aerie's idea since I don't think Imoen would be this organized and there was hardly a mention of buttkicking in the letter for it to have been Minsc..."

A cry of protest rose from Imoen as Aerie laughed, shaking her head as she gazed into her untouched mug of ale. "While I appreciate your faith, it wasn't either of us... though I agree about Imoen."

A second cry of protest and betrayal rose from Imoen as she slapped Aerie's arm while Minsc responded with what may have been mock or real indignance... it was hard to tell. "Minsc takes offense as well. There is much more to life than simply buttkicking... there is boot-stomping, sword swinging, headbutting... you must broaden your minds, eh?"

"Whatever you say, Minsc." Greywulf shook his head with a resigned grin. "So Imoen, go ahead and tell us what spurred this reunion then..."

"Hmph. So now you want to hear my master plan and all. Well what if I don't wanna say it now." Imoen pouted, folding her arms with an exaggerated frown, before a barely surpressed snort from Jaheira broke her act. "Heh. Okay, so it wasn't me either. But I promise, I'm SO much more organized now than you even realize. I'm a very grown-up, mature, ladylike-"

It was at the word 'ladylike' that the howls of laughter were loud enough that the man in the opposite corner of the room decided he had waited long enough to make his move- he rose from his table and approached the gathering of old friends, clearing his throat as he made his presence known. He didn't particularly want to startle them- while they may have been in good spirits now, they hadn't made their fame from peaceful acts, after all. Still, he had no doubt that once they saw him, they'd know precisely why he was there, and welcome him with open arms. "By the gods, what fortune is this, to stumble upon a gathering of such rareified individuals! Pardon my intrusion, may I join you, if only for a few moments?"

"Oh hell." Jaheir's face immediately dropped into an annoyed scowl. "Now this all makes sense."

"Volothamp Geddarm... the plot thins." Greywulf rolled his eyes as the infamous writer pulled up a chair squarely between Aerie and Imoen, looking at the group with an unshakeable grin. "I suppose we can presume that you were the one who sent us all those letters to bring us here?"

"Letters? I'm sure I have no clue as to what you are talking about, good sir." Volo shook his head with as feigned an innocence as he could muster. "I simply happened to spy some of the most famous beings in Faerun gathered together once more, and could not neglect such an opportunity! What sort of author would I be if I did not take this chance to immortalize it on paper?"

"I can think of a few words to describe what sort of author you'd be... are..." Aerie folded her arms and frowned at the man with a slight shake of her head. "I can't believe I'm saying this, but Haer'Dalis' play was more truthful than your account of the Bhaalspawn crisis. You got more things wrong in your book than you did right."

"Ah, so you did read it then?" Volo seemed nonplussed by Aerie's expression of disapproval as he continued. "Always a pleasure to meet a fan, especially ones so famous as you all-"

"All right, bored now." Imoen cut in with a yawn, her chin resting on one palm, elbow digging into the table. "Let's pay our tab and move this party somewhere else... not talking to you Volo, just in case that wasn't clear. In fact, why don't you just stay here, we'll tell Bernard you're good for the money-"

"Agh! All right, I sent you the letters. Please, simply hear me out!" Volo yelped as the group began to rise from the table, the writer hurriedly gesturing for them to sit back down. "I am, as you know, the chronicler of the greatest stories in the annals of Faerun. Your exploits are simply one of the many tales I have been privileged to bear witness to as I've traveled far and wide-"

A loud, faux snoring sound from Imoen interrupted him once more, as he finally sighed and exhaled sharply. "Right to the point then... I wish to interview you all."

"What? Why would you want to do that?" Greywulf frowned, shaking his head in confusion.

"Ah... it may have been some time since your most famous adventures, but the thirst of the public can never be quenched completely!" Volo stated triumphantly. "The masses always desire to know more, and your stories were so glorious, surely there must be more to tell! I simply ask your permission to tell the tales of what further glories you have partaken in since the saga of the Bhaalspawn. A few questions, that is all, truly."

"And what makes you think we would agree to this?" Jaheira asked with an arched eyebrow, obviously unimpressed.

"Ooh! All the ale we can drink while you interview us! You're paying the tab." Imoen grinned, pointing to Volo as though the very act would compel him. "Promise that and I'm in."

"I... er... I suppose that's a fair deal..." Volo replied uncertainly as Imoen pumped one arm in celebration, immediately jumping to her feet to shout to Bernard over the railing of the upper floor. "Ah. Very well then, I agree to those terms."

A murmured curse from Jaheira spurred a laugh from Greywulf as he shrugged and elbowed her gently. "Well, he did get us all here together, so I'd say we at least owe him for that. What's a few questions amid a night of drinking together with family, huh?"

No sooner had Greywulf spoken than he heard a grunt of surprise from Minsc and a slight gasp from Aerie. Without even looking, he had a feeling he was going to regret this.

"Oh dear." Aerie sighed as a long scroll unfurled to the floor in front of Volo, the unrolling side finally coming to rest at the tip of Minsc's boot, covered in dozens if not hundreds of scribbled questions. He pulled an ink quill out along with a blank parchment to take notes on, the writer's eyes alighting with excitement as he cleared his throat.

Jaheira glared back at Greywulf, who shrugged helplessly. She did not say a word. She simply reached out, took hold of her full mug of ale... then proceeded to drain the entire thing before reaching for the pitcher to refill it once more.

 _Author's Post Script: We're back! At least, for a little while. Absence makes the heart grow fonder, as they say, and I do love these characters. I'll be the first to say this isn't going to be anything so dramatic as Tale of the Bhaalspawn or Wars of the Bhaalspawn(if the title didn't give that fact away, though I did feel the urge to continue the naming pattern), but more a short collection of short, (hopefully) humorous stories. I'm here to answer questions like... what has everyone been up to since we last saw them, both separately and together? How many people has Imoen managed to piss off since striking out on her own? Just how much alcohol will Jaheira need to consume to put up with all of Volo's interview? How pissed off is Haer'Dalis that Volo is getting this interview and not him? Will all or any of these questions be answered? Not sure. Heh. It's good to be back._


	2. Titles and the Heroes who Hate Them

_Author's Notes: Success! I have made contact with the heroes of the Bhaalspawn crisis. I must restrain my enthusiasm though, as their disappearance from the public eye means they may have taken a more private bent in their dealings. Still, I've yet to meet the man or woman who did not succumb to my linguistic charm and spill their darkest secrets for my books! We shall start with the easiest of questions for those long since out of the spotlight- a bit of ego stroking to get them in the mood to talk of their own deeds. Ah Volo, you've done it again. This shall be my greatest work to date! I must record our conversation in it's entirety- any tidbit of information they tell me could be crucial to the success of this story!_

Volo: "Welcome, dear readers all across Faerun. I, Volothamp Geddarm, your ever humble servant, return to you once more with another tale of heroes, villains, and adventure to tickle the ears and dazzle the minds of those fortunate enough to partake! Our story begins in a tavern not unlike any that you yourselves may have visited in the past-"

Imoen: "Are we going to be listening to you narrate your entire book? I'm not hearing a question in here. And are you writing down everything that I'm saying? And what you were saying too? You writers are so weird..."

V: "Please my dear, surely you know that the proper tone must be set for stories of this magnitude! An introduction must be established when one speaks of the heroes of Baldur's Gate, the scourges of the Sword Coast, the Saviors of Suldenesselar!"

Greywulf: "You know, I really hate those."

V: "What?"

G: "Those nicknames. They're the worst."

Aerie: "Absolutely the worst."

I: "Think of something that's really the best. Like, so good it's the best. Those nicknames? The opposite of that. So bad they're the worst."

Minsc: "Well… eh… Boo and I think they-"

Jaheira: "The. Worst."

V: "Ah. Well, surely-"

A: "Couldn't you just call us by name in the book? Surely it wouldn't be much more difficult."

M: "I for one think that our titles are well-deserved and glorious! All across the land, people sing of our deeds!"

V: "Finally, some appreciation for the bardic bent. Still, as the subjects of this book I should at least try to make you happy. Which moniker would you prefer? 'The Heroes of Baldur's Gate' would seem to be the most common-"

I: "Honestly, we were there for like… two days. I mean, yeah, there was the temple underneath the city, but that's like calling someone the hero of the Copper Coronet because they drank the last of the ale… or whatever Bernard says this stuff is."

J: "Whatever it is, it's not nearly strong enough to put up with this. By Silvanus, I need another drink already. Please continue, I'm going to go see what else Bernard has on tap."

G: "Also… don't forget we kind of were on the run from the guard for most of our time there… and lots of government officials died and got replaced by doppelgangers… it was a pretty ugly time all around."

A: "I wasn't even there for it."

M: "This is true. If we are to be immortalized in such a way, it should be for something that my witch was present for!"

V: Indeed. 'The Scourges of the Sword Coast'? A more imposing moniker, I admit, but-"

I: "Um, do any of us look like 'scourges' to you?"

A: "Hmm… hehe… well, to be honest Imoen, I-"

I: "Not one word out of you."

G: "Siding with Aerie on this one. Sorry Im, we know you too well."

M: "No! This makes us sound like villains, and that is the opposite of us! We are heroes, and heroes are not villains, unless they are heroic villains like Sarevok, or villains who were villains once but became heroes, or maybe villains who became heroes but were forced to be villains but then became heroes again like Yoshimo!"

G: "Aaaaand now the words 'heroes' and 'villains' sound like mush in my head. Thanks Minsc."

M: "You are very welcome!"

J: "Here, another pitcher of ale to get through this mindless drivel. Oh… I'm sorry, Volo. I'd quite forgotten you were still here."

V: "Haha… yes, I'm sure. We were still deciding on your titles in the book. How about 'the Saviors of Suldenesselar'? Surely you could not begrudge a reminder of how you singlehandedly saved the greatest elven kingdom in Amn-"

G: "Ah…. maybe don't remind folks on a large scale about the notoriously private elves who live a few days travel from here."

I: "Or that the elves have a sacred ruin that connects to the Underdark situated outside their city just waiting for any idiot to come wandering by."

A: "And that they needed help from outsiders to fight off an invader they had a hand in creating who nearly destroyed them twice."

V: "Truly? It has been twenty years since these events, surely they will not care about me recounting tales of it by now- er… is, ah… is something the matter, Jaheira?"

G: "I don't think I've heard Jaheira laugh this hard in a while, Volo- Jaheira, you pretty much drained that last pitcher on your own, didn't you? Might want to think about slowing down, he's got plenty of questions to go…"

J: "Of course, the elves will have forgotten by now. *snrk*. Heh. Volo, every time I think I've seen your lowest, you dig to a new depth."

I: "Heh, she's got a point, y'know. Elves, forgetting about something after twenty years? What do you think they are, humans?"

V: "Well, we certainly can't keep debating this all evening or we'll never get anywhere."

J: "Oh no. That would be simply terrible."

G: "That lacked a certain sense of sincerity, Jaheira. He does have a point though… so what else you got?"

V: "Ah… well, these are slightly less well known, but… how about 'The Defenders of Letherel'?"

A: "We didn't really defend Letherel, to be honest…"

I: "Yeah, it was more of a drop in and out kind of thing… I wasn't even there for most of it. I was still in Spellhold, thanks. Jerks."

G: "Not even going to dignify that with an answer, Im. And I don't think Queen Dianya wants knowledge of her grove spread that much either. Pass."

V: " 'The Heralds of Faerun's Rebirth'?"

A: "Wait, really? That's a thing?"

J: "No. Nobody is calling us that."

I: "That sounds too ridiculous, and this is coming from someone who's sat through Haer'Dalis' play about us."

V: "I swear on my life, I have heard several men call you that… I can see that fact matters little to any of you. Hmm… the list grows short, but what about 'the Heirs of Bhaal'?"

G: "Really only applies to me and Imoen, you know?"

V: " 'The Destroyers of Brynnlaw'?"

A: "No! And that was the Githyanki, not us!"

J: "Are you a complete fool? Forget I asked."

V: "I must say, if none of these titles strike your interest it shall be difficult to begin… how about this. What title would all of you prefer to be called?"

A: "Now you've done it..."

I: "Ooh! I've got so many! Imoen and her Stalwart Companions, the Queen of Candlekeep and friends, the Mistress of Might, Magic and Mischief…"

G: "I like how that last one didn't even mention the rest of us."

I: "Okay, so they're works in progress. Didn't hear you putting up anything better, y'bufflehead."

V: "Perhaps this was a mistake, ah-"

M: "Minsc has one! Boo's brave butt-kickers! Very good, yes?"

A: "Hehe… that's actually quite clever, Minsc."

I: "Hah! That'll certainly grab a readers' attention, alright."

G: "Y'know, he might be on to something there, Volo. Boo's brave butt-kickers it is."

J: "That is the most ridiculous nickname for us that I have ever heard. Well done, Minsc. Volo, I look forward to seeing that in print. Another drink, anyone?"

A: "Ah, Volo… if you insist on holding your head in your hands like that we'll never get through this interview."


	3. Concerning Limited Wishes and Bears

_Author's Notes: It is not often that I find myself unsure in one of these interviews. Caught off guard, occasionally. Flustered even. Perhaps I had... overestimated the allure of the spotlight to these adventurers. Still, a single mis-step can often be the beginning of a great adventure! And that is the new route I should take in my line of questioning- the tales of adventure are ones that nobody can deny, not even the most jaded of men! Ah, but Jaheira appears to be glaring at me again. I should probably resume the questions._

V: "Well then, perhaps we should continue, eh? Surely in careers as storied as your own, there are hundreds of tales you could tell about your adventures and the dangers you've survived. The readers must know: what is the greatest battle you can remember fighting?"

I: "That's a bit of an open-ended question, isn't it? What, like, within the Bhaalspawn war stuff or after?"

V: "Whichever you prefer, my dear."

G: "That's an easy question. Wolves."

V: "Very good, very- wait, what?"

G: "Wolves, you know? Like, big ones. *an imitation snarl as Greywulf made a chomping motion with one hand.* Really big teeth and paws and... you look confused, Volo. I mean, if you ever visit Candlekeep, watch out for those blasted things. They're all over the forest right outside."

I: "Hahaha! Oh yeah, I'd forgotten about that. That was pretty flippin hard, wasn't it? Me with a bow and 20 arrows, you with one magic missile spell, us against the world!"

J: "How you survived long enough to meet us at the Friendly Arm Inn is beyond me."

G: "Wouldn't that have been a hell of a way to end our story- mauled to death by wolves outside Candlekeep. The End."

A: "And here I thought I was unready for this life when I joined you. *giggle* I do remember fighting some griffins early on when I was still learning magic, they were very vicious."

J: "Tethyrian vipers for me. One latched onto my arm in my youth and I did not know how to cure poison yet. The druids of the grove did not let me forget it for weeks."

M: "I have one! Let me tell you something, mister writer! Minsc remembers his finest moment in battle, and let all hear the tale this day! It all began many years ago, in the snowy hills of Rashemen when Minsc was but a young boy and he faced a rite of challenge in the arenas of his village- a wrestling match with a snowy mountain bear that rivaled the size of even Minsc himself!"

I: "Wait, what? You wrestled a bear? How did we never hear about this before?"

M: "You did not ask."

V: "Ah... excuse me, but... may I suggest that while the tales of fighting animals in your youth is undoubtedly thrilling and will surely not cause my readers to put the book down... perhaps we could move onto tales of more recent battle?"

M: "You... do not wish to hear about the bear wrestling?"

A: "You've upset him."

G: "Nice going, Volo."

I: "He didn't mean it Minsc. *I* want to hear about it."

V: "I meant no offense, surely... just that perhaps my readers might wish to hear of something more... ah... relevant to their interests?"

J: "Heh. By all means, keep digging that hole, Volo. I'm getting another drink, the pitchers are dry..."

G: "That was quick, Jaheira, do you need some help- and she's gone. I guess not. Well fine then Volo, what do you want us to talk about? Surely not the Bhaalspawn stuff..."

I: "You kidding? Of course he wants to hear about the Bhaalspawn stuff. *Everyone* wants to hear about the Bhaalspawn stuff."

V: "Ah, and why not? Surely tales of your most well-known exploits will grab the attention and thrill them to-"

A: "Everyone's heard it before. Even Minsc's people in Rashemen have heard it."

M: "Thanks to me!"

A: "Well, yes. Very much thanks to Minsc and his evenings at the local taverns, but that's beside the point."

G: "What is the point, again? I seem to have forgotten it."

V: "The point-! Ah, that'll be enough laughter, Miss Imoen... is that the readers will thrill at tales of your adventures! And while your deeds during the Bhaalspawn wars are legend, surely there are some you have not disclosed yet?"

I: "Heh."

A: "Imoen... you better not..."

G: "Oh, now you've done it."

I: "You want to hear something new, huh? Okay, let's talk about a man by the name of Captain Dennis and his mother's gong."

V: "I- what?"

A: "Have you ever seen a gong that's been used to shovel cow manure? It's not pleasant."

G: "Forget seeing one, have you ever smelled one? That ogre wasn't lying about his cow having issues."

V: "I don't understand..."

I: "You wanted something different, right? Well, so did we, to be fair... the point is, a djinni sent us on a quest to go get a gong back for a drunk who sold it to a sewer dweller, who sold it to a troll shaman, who sold it to an ogre mage, who was using it to shovel the manure of his sick cow."

J: *Jaheira slid back into her seat, clutching a bottle of red wine.* "I thought it best we move from ale to something more refined- not that many of Bernard's wine bottles are anything close, but- ah. You've managed to shut Volo up for a few moments. Well done."

V: "I... ah... I'm not quite certain that's really what I was looking to tell, truth be told."

M: "Then let me recount the greatest of battles for you, a ferocious dragon and Minsc in heated combat, only his sword and wits to aid him!"

V: "Ah... finally, something worth hearing! Do continue, Minsc!"

M: "The creature circled Minsc, just the two of us locking eyes as the snow fell all around us! It was hard to tell the creature apart because of its white fur, but no beast can outwit the likes of Minsc! I-"

V: "Ah... you said fur?"

M: "No, scales! Dragons have scales, of course. We charged one another, and Minsc swung in an attempt to take the head clean off, but it was too quick! It reared up on its hind legs and swung a mighty claw, knocking Minsc's sword from his hands and sending me to the ground! Then it landed on all four paws over the top of me, trying to bring its-"

V: "Paws?"

M: "Claws. Claws, not paws! You must listen better, eh? Where was I?"

A: "The dragon's paws were coming down on top of you."

M: "Yes! Just as the dragon paws landed on either side of Minsc, I was able to reach out and punch the snout before it could bite! It backed off and Minsc grabbed it as it reared up, pulling Minsc to his feet! With a single punch, Minsc had the upper hand on the four legged fiend!"

V: "Er... Minsc. I do not mean to sound rude, but... are you telling me the bear story you mentioned earlier?"

M: "..."

V: "..."

M: "Maybe."


	4. Death Becomes Her

_Author's Notes: It is with some trepidation that I continue my line of questioning with these five. It is becoming rapidly clear that they have little interest in the serious nature of the glories they so surely hold within their past exploits. And yet, I cannot hold back, nor can I let this opportunity pass without something, ANYTHING of value for my book. I shall drag them to glory whether they wish it or not! Hmm. That sounded rather egomaniacal. I shall have to watch that, Elminster would never let me live it down were he to hear about it._

V: "Perhaps I have been asking the wrong types of questions, my friends."

G: "What gave you that impression? Was it the deliberate avoidance of answering any question seriously?"

I: "The thinly veiled mocking?"

A: "The second bottle of wine Jaheira is working on at this point?"

J: *the sound of a cork popping out of a wine bottle interrupted them for a moment as Jaheira poured herself another glass, ignoring the others for the moment*

V: "Eh… perhaps a bit of all of the above. Surely you must realize how others look upon you though, no?"

M: "Of course! We are heroes through and through, and let nobody say otherwise!"

V: "Exactly! And, er... forgive me if this seems unwanted-"

J: "Too late."

V: "But there is not a would-be adventurer who has not looked up to your exploits as something to be aspired to, or matched if were even possible! If not for me, then please think of them. Would it not be worth answering a few of my questions if it helps inspire those who would follow in your footsteps?"

G: "If there's any other Children of dead gods out there, I'd really recommend they not follow me and Im's example, to be honest. Way too much paranoia."

I: "Family reunions were killer, too."

A: "Imoen, even for you, that joke was terrible."

M: "If we can be of service to fellow heroes, then we should certainly try, should we not? Come friends, let us indulge this man with his books, eh? There can never be enough heroes to walk the land, and if we can inspire them to walk even louder, we should be proud to do so!"

V: "Thank you Minsc… er, did you mean, 'walk taller'?"

M: "No."

G: "Heh. If you knew him you wouldn't even bother asking the question. But fine, that's the price. Make this book an actual useful thing for aspiring adventurers and we'll actually start taking this seriously. Deal?"

I: "And you're still picking up our bar tab. Right Jaheira?"

J: *Shows a thumbs-up as she takes another swig from the wine bottle*

V: "Excellent! Now, perhaps in the spirit of helping those young readers out there, would you tell me truly, what your most fearsome battle was and how you overcame it?"

G: "Hmm. Well, I mean, it'd be easy to say either Irenicus, Sarevok or Mellissan, but to be completely honest, those big battles like that that you psyche yourself up for… they're kind of a blur."

A: "He's right… you prepare yourself so much and go through it your mind so many times, it's like you've already fought it by the time you're actually there."

J: "In truth, the battle lies in the preparation. Knowing your enemy and what they will do before they can even begin to move against you."

I: "It doesn't even really matter what you're fighting, if you know what the battlefield is, and you know what they're capable of, it makes every fight much simpler."

M: "Dragons!"

V: "I… suppose I should have expected that answer."

G: "*sigh* Minsc, you wanna talk about dragons for a while?"

M: "Yes!"

G: "Dragons it is then. Aerie, you grew up preparing to fight them back in Faenya-Dail, didn't you? Any advice from elves about how to fight them?"

A: "To be fair, much of the lessons we learned made use of our wings and our ability to dodge them in mid-air, splitting their attention between those who baited them and those who struck from the ground."

V: "Ah, very true. Not too unlike the tale of how you slew Firkraag, yes? A single dragon versus a single warrior is no contest-"

M: "Except for Minsc! He has killed many such beasts with the help of his witch alone!"

G: "Not really fitting the definition of 'alone', Minsc."

I: "No, but speaking of Aerie, she did take on Draconis basically single handed."

A: "I also got eaten and died in that battle, if you remember. That whole gambit was something I made up as a last ditch attempt to save everyone else. I don't know if I'd really make that recommendation to new wizards."

I: "Completely beside the point. That was possibly the most badass thing you've ever done, Aer!"

A: "Aer?"

I: "Have I not called you that before? I'm sure I have."

G: "To be completely fair, I think our best plans were usually the ones we came up with on the spot."

I: "You're only saying that because you usually came up with those spur of the moment plans."

G: "And they always worked, right?"

A: "Nope."

I: "Yeah, right."

M: "Eh… sometimes?"

J: "*choked laughter as she put her drink down abruptly, shaking her head*"

G: "Jaheira, I think the alcohol is making you loopy. She normally doesn't laugh this much, I promise. And they're just being pessimistic. The thing you have to remember with dragons, is that you never really *want* to end up on their back, but it just always ends up seeming like the safest place to be."

I: "Or in Aerie's case, inside their mouth while you blow them up from the inside!"

A: "You know, it's not actually a very pleasant experience to remember-"

M: "I find that the best way to kill a dragon is with my sword!"

V: "….and?"

M: "And what? Maybe with my axes, though they do not reach the brain quite as well."

I: "You know what does reach the brain?"

A: "Im-"

I: "A Holy Word spell. Through the throat. Straight into the head. Pop, just like a melon."

A: "Are you seriously trying to tell new adventurers that getting themselves swallowed by a dragon and then channeling the power of the gods is their best option for fighting a dragon?"

G: "It also involves drowning in acidic blood, then getting resurrected by three demi-gods who've claimed the Throne of Murder."

A: "That too!"

I: "Oh come one Aerie, you're sitting here in front of us now, aren'tcha? And what a story! I mean, I don't think any of us have anything to compare with that… ok, I probably do, but definitely not Greywulf or Jaheira!"

V: "Er, hold on… I believe we've rather departed from the original topic now-"

G: "That's a big claim, Immy… still pretty sure you haven't traversed the planes like we did back in the Sphere in Athkatla-"

I: "Come on now, that was *years* ago! You can't keep bringing that one up, totally not fair!"

G: "This from the girl who has a written list of all the pranks she pulled on me back in Candlekeep? Not sure anything's off limits here, Im."

A: "And apparently thinks my finest moment was a very painful death inside a dragon's maw."

I: "Yer the one keeps bringing it up, y'know."

A: "I do not!"

G: "In Imoen's defense, that was pretty impressive. And every good adventurer should know when to pull out the 'last stand' card. It gives you a certain credibility..."

A: "Not if you're dead afterwards!"

M: "Only if you stay dead! My witch would not let something like death hold her back, eh?"

I: "See? You should really start flaunting the fact that you're a zombie now, Aerie."

A: "Okay, now you're just trying to bait me."

I: "And it works so well! Your face always turns red and you get this adorable little scrunch in your nose, hehehe..."

J: "Heh… Volo, are you happier now that we've decided to take this seriously?"


	5. Do You Even Lift?

_Author's Notes: Progress! Of sorts. Perhaps not as much as I had originally hoped for, but all great journeys start with a single step, yes? The same goes for all great books, I think. I stand on the precipice of greatness once more, and all that stands in my way is the reticence of five men and women. Onward, Volo! Their tongues have only begun to wag, and the tales forthcoming shall be the greatest yet!_

G: "The most important thing for any new adventurer? Easy, no question. Bag of Holding."

V: "That makes sense to an extent, but-"

I: "To an extent? Have you ever tried to lug around extra weapons, food, blankets, potions, books, magic items and gold in a normal pack? It's flippin heavy!"

M: "Not to Minsc!"

A: "Haha, don't you think you are slightly more stout than the usual adventurer?"

M: "Perhaps, but anyone can become as strong as Minsc! All it takes is dedication, commitment to the way of the sword, and the right teacher! Minsc was not always this strong, you know? At one time, he was a tiny lad that even Boo would have scoffed at, had he seen me then!"

V: "You raise an interesting point, friends. The road is certainly no easy life, and it begs the question of how to tell when one is truly ready for such a harsh life? I cannot imagine the everyday peasant or merchant-"

J: "Or author? *snrk*"

V: "*ahem*- has the stamina necessary for this life. Even one such as I must maintain some semblance of fitness should my work anger the wrong crowd."

I: "By that I assume you mean ALL of the crowds. But yer right about that, you certainly get your cardio in. If I had a copper for every cross-country sprint we did for one reason or another…"

M: "Running is well and good, yes, but it does not prepare you for the heft of a mighty blade in your hands! One cannot simply swing their sword like a gentle breeze- it must strike with the force of a hurricane, able to cut an oak tree in half with one swipe!"

G: "He has a point, it never hurts to keep up on your exercise, warrior or not."

V: "I think expecting one to cut a tree in half with one swing… ah, perhaps for Minsc here, might be a little excessive, yes? And I confess I am unsure what you mean, Greywulf… certainly your focus is on your spellcraft, even if you carry a quarterstaff, true?"

G: "You kidding? I work out. Like, all the time."

*unintelligble laughter from all sitting at the table*

G: "Laugh it up, everyone, laugh it up. Come on Aerie, back me up here. You still keep the Flail of Ages on you for a backup weapon, don't you? That thing has some heft to it, doesn't it?"

A: "Which is why I cheat. Girdle of Hill Giant Strength."

I: "So that's how you'd win those pillow fights... I knew you were cheating somehow!"

V: "We are, I believe, getting slightly off topic here-"

J: "Shocking."

M: "You were asking about how to build strength like Minsc! I can tell you, far and away, the best way to swing a sword harder is by practicing to swing a sword harder. It is not that difficult to understand."

G: "That's... ah... actually not all that inaccurate, to be fair to Minsc. Practice does tend to make perfect. But like I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted, you really do need strength no matter what kind of weapon you're swinging."

V: "Could you elaborate?"

G: "Sure. Say you're setting up camp in the forest, and a bunch of wolves come out of the dark and surround you. It's late, you don't have very many spells left memorized, what do you do?"

J: "Charm them with magic."

I: "Shoot them with arrows."

M: "As a ranger, all animals are friends of Minsc! But... eh, on the off chance they are not friendly, BUTT-KICKING FOR GOODNESS!"

A: "I resent the idea you think I'd run out of spells."

G: "Ok, you all have valid points- eh, mostly- but what I'm getting at is climbing. You climb a tree to get away from them, and now you have room to operate. And as it turns out, climbing while hefting a full backpack can be pretty intense. That's why I climb at least three trees a day. Preferably twenty or thirty feet tall."

I: "He has a point there, though swimming with a full pack is probably my least favorite. Plus it takes forever to dry everything out, my scrolls get all wet and blotchy..."

A: "At least you wear leather armor that's somewhat form fitting. Soaking wet mage robes are unbelievably heavy to walk around in."

G: "I'll second that. Not my preferred exercise, but it does get the job done... even if there's a little extra danger of drowning by getting tangled up in your robes. Still, three dips in a pond if there's one nearby does wonders for getting your blood up in the morning."

V: "Perhaps I can clarify something... are you saying that your preferred methods of exercise and training are climbing trees and swimming?"

J: "In full gear, mind you. That's the important part."

G: "You get real sarcastic when you drink, you know that?"

I: "I... honestly can't tell the difference."

G: "Look, I get that it's not the most glamorous thing in the world, everyone always thinks that the normal day of an adventuring party is nothing but slaying dragons and saving damsels, but it's just not true."

M: "Sometimes there are hydras AND dragons! Those are my favorite days."

I: "Sometimes it's not a damsel but a... huh. What's the male term for a 'damsel', Aerie?"

A: "What're you asking me for?"

I: "Just sayin', you're probably the closest to a 'damsel' we ever had in the group-"

A: "You did NOT just say that to me."

I: "Heh, I already told you this, but ya get all cute when yer angry-"

 _Author's Note: It was at this point when Aerie and Imoen departed the rest of the group and engaged in what could be described in polite terms as... wrestling? For the purposes of my readers, I shall simply point out that they had little to say for the rest of this topic, though a few rejoinders were tossed our way from the floor._

G: "Well, that escalated quickly, didn't it? Don't mind them. The point is that you need to be prepared for all the random crap that's going to get thrown your way. You can swing a sword with the best of them but if you have to jump a twenty foot chasm to escape a collapsing Fire Giant temple and you can't turn into the Slayer, you're out of luck unless you've been practicing your long jump."

V: "I just... have a hard time imaging that, I guess."

G: "Hey, you don't survive as long as we have without some daily exercise and planning ahead."

V: "I confess to being blindsided by this bit of information. I am not certain how well the audience will take this, but perhaps each of you could tell our readers what your... ah, favorite daily exercise is and for what purpose you do it?"

G: "Already said mine. Tree climbing for avoiding those damn Candlekeep wolves."

J: "That encounter really traumatized you, didn't it?"

G: "They were really big wolves."

M: "Lifting tree trunks!"

V: "Ah, for building strength to wield your sword, I presume?"

M: "No, to throw at enemies! Have you ever seen an orc that was squashed under a tree? It was not pretty, let Minsc tell you!"

I: "*unintelligble yell from the floor*"

G: "In case you missed that, she said it was pickpocketing all of the rest of us. Something about keeping her skills sharp."

A: "*another unintelligble yell as she and Imoen continued to roll over top of one another*"

V: "Er... I did not quite-"

G: "She said she cheats and just uses magic for everything. Which is true, but that's only because she didn't have to deal with wolves back in Faenya-Dail, otherwise she'd know better."

V: "I... do not know if I can print any of this, truth be told..."

J: "The first reasonable thing you've said since you sat down. I'm getting another drink."

V: "Oh dear, I did not get hers-"

G: "Jaheira's? Oh, that's easy. Pole vaulting."

V: "I- you cannot be serious."

G: "I don't know why you're so surprised. You jam a spear into the ground while running at full speed and use it as leverage to launch yourself forward. Makes for a good way to cross a large gap or just to put your boot in someone's face at speed."

V: "And she... practices this? Daily?"

G: "I don't know why you sound so surprised by this, Volo. Are you sure you're qualified to be writing this book?"


End file.
